Title: Kings Of The Table.
Author: anotherweasley (Tumblr)
Word count: 5, 600~
Summary: Starts as a kid!fic. Kurt and Blaine's relationship, beginning and blossoming with, ahem…sandwiches.
Warning: I don't know, a bad sandwich or two? Emotions?
Author's Note: This really just came about because I was eating a really good sandwich and…I don't know how it turned out to be this.
And no, it's not a comedy _; Sandwiches are special in this, okay?
Kurt enjoyed the park.
Especially when it was the summer holidays. He could go on the swings as much as he wanted to (if he got there soon enough). He could play outside all day. And even possibly meet somebody who would be his buddy forever and ever.
It was his first day at the park since the summer holidays started, and his mummy had given him his sandwich and told him to go play – and he had better eat his lunch! – while she strolled around the park with Daddy.
Kurt tried to talk to some girls on the monkeybars, but they thought he had cooties and fled toward the slide, still yelling. Kurt sighed and kicked the bark, instead taking refuge on a table in the shade. He picked at the plastic wrap on his food, looking out at the other kids and their friends, playing tag or even just rolling around. Whatever, he thought, straightening his back regally, I don't need them – they are my servants, I am their King! Ha!
"Hi," a small voice had said below Kurt. Wrapped sandwich in hand, Kurt looked around from his interrupted post of King of the Table and noticed a small boy with curly dark hair, wild from the wind, grinning hugely up at him. He looked like a puppy. It made Kurt laugh.
"Kurt. It's nice to meet you." Kurt knew his mummy would have been proud to hear her lessons of – what was it, eddycat? – had paid off.
"Do you wanna eat our sammiches together?"
"Rude! We haven't gone on a date yet. Mummy always says nice boys take someone on a date before sharing."
"I'm not – I'm not sharing! I just want to each my sammich with you 'cause you're pretty, and I like your bow thing."
Kurt glanced down at his polkadot bowtie and smiled, plucking at it "The big kids in 5th grade said it was ugly."
"They're stupid, big ol' meat-heads!"
Kurt laughed, firstly because Blaine said funny things and also because Blaine still looked like a puppy. Kurt had always wanted one, but Daddy didn't like their fur laying around the house.
"You can sit with me. We'll be kings."
They silently unwrapped their sandwiches, smiles tugging their lips up because both their mummies has made their favourite today.
"I like my mummy. She makes the bestest sammiches in the whole wide world," Blaine sighed, chomping deep into his lunch with a satisfied groan.
"But my mummy makes the bestest sammiches is the whole entire universe!"
"Yeah. Space president said so."
"Wow! Can I try it..?" Blaine asked hesitantly, peeking down at the egg and lettuce sandwich Kurt was holding daintily (he even stuck his pinkie out).
"Daddy told me I have a big-boy taste. I don't know if you would like it."
"I have a big-boy taste! I am a big boy!"
"But you're so little. How old are you?" Kurt asked incredulously, picking at his crust and throwing it onto the grass for the birds.
"I'm 6. Ha!"
"I'm 6, too!"
"So…" Blaine began, beaming coyly at Kurt's food. "Does that mean I can try?"
"But Mummy says not to share my food with strangers…" Kurt knew he was going to cave in, because Blaine was giving him huge puppy dog eyes and Kurt wanted to put a leash on him and give him yummy treats.
"My mummy says that, too."
"Fine, you can try it – only if I can taste yours."
They smiled hugely at each other and bit into their new lunch.
"Geez!" Blaine exclaimed. "That's good!"
"Yum. I like yours… Can I have it?"
"Sure! Cheese and tomato isn't my favourite anymore."
"Neither is egg and lettuce."
The following day, Kurt was at the park again with his egg and lettuce sandwich for Blaine and immediately scoped him out. Blaine was sitting on their table, sandwich in hand, bouncing as he waited. Kurt abandoned his mother without a word and ran ad fast as his legs would take him, jumping quickly onto the table beside Blaine, his new friend.
"Hi, Blaine!" he panted.
"Hi, Kurt!" Without a word, they swapped sandwiches, just because they could.
In between huge bites, they talked about each other – a friend had to know everything about their friend, right? Kurt found out that Blaine's favourite colour was blue and red (he could never decide) and that his favourite toy was his Jub-Jub. He promised he'd let Kurt see it if Kurt visited for playtime. Kurt said he would, because Blaine was his buddy.
They finished their sandwiches together and Kurt wanted to show Blaine his mummy.
"Mummy, mummy!" Kurt tugged at her skirt until she turned around from a woman she was talking to.
"What is it, Kurtie? Oh, who is this?" She kneeled down and took Kurt's hand.
"This is my friend, Blaine."
"Hi. Kurt told me that the Space president said you make the best sammiches in the universe. He was right."
"Oh, that's sweet!" she cooed, smiling at Blaine, who returned it. "You know, boys, it just so happens that I was talking to Blaine's mummy just now!"
"Really?" Kurt tugged free from his mother's grip and ran around her, face to face with Blaine's mother. She was smiling fondly down at them, blonde hair curled immaculately at her shoulders. She reminded Kurt of one of the girls in a Broadway musical his mummy had showed him.
"Your mummy is pretty, Blaine!" She laughed and held a hand to her chest.
"Thank you, Kurt. I feel like we're going to be seeing each other for a long while," she said to Kurt's mother.
She didn't, though.
Kurt's mother had died two years later and Kurt didn't want to go to the park anymore. He was too sad to see such a happy place. He felt bad for not meeting up with Blaine, especially since they only got to see each other on weekends and holidays. But Blaine was his best friend and he would understand. He liked Kurt's mum, too. He still stood by his point that she – used to – make the best egg and lettuce sandwich ever. And now there would be no more.
After crying in his father's arms, Kurt escaped into his room to take a long nap. He was just so exhausted. He had never felt so empty inside. He couldn't believe his mother, a woman he had loved so much, was gone. Just like that.
As his head hit the pillow, he heard the doorbell ring. The sound echoed through his ears and he pushed his face further into the pillow. Voices reverberated against the hall, muffled by the wall, and suddenly, someone was walking in. Kurt winced at the company, but slowly cracked his eyes open, meeting the honey eyes he knew were Blaine's. They were frowning and a little red-rimmed.
"Hi, K," he whispered, smiling a little bit, but it was sad. Kurt had never known a sad smile existed until now.
"Hi, B," he breathed in return, clutching his blanket close to his chest, trying not to cry, because he was a big boy now and he had to act like one.
"My mum and I came to visit after we heard." Blaine sniffled. "I decided I don't like God anymore. He took away a beautiful person."
"I don't believe in God," Kurt muttered, stressing his bottom lip with his teeth, fighting back the tears at his best friend's concern. One leaked from his eye, slid down his cheek.
"K, you're allowed to cry. Why are you not crying?"
"Because I'm trying to be a big kid. You'll call me a baby if I cry."
"Kurt! I would never, ever, ever call you a baby, ever! Even big kids cry." More tears began to race from Kurt's eyes, and the second Blaine had crawled onto Kurt's bed beside him and thrown his arms around Kurt's shaking body, sobs were ripping from his chest in quick successions. He buried his face into Blaine's fluffy hair, and he'd never been more glad to have him as a friend.
"Hey, K, I know you're probably not hungry right now, but…I made you something." Blaine pulled away and Kurt already missed his comfort, but he was back again, holding something in foil.
"What is it?" Kurt asked, his voice scratchy and trembling, but before Blaine could answer, Kurt was looking down at an egg and lettuce sandwich. It looked a little like his mother's, but not really; egg was spilling over the sides of the crust and a scrap of lettuce was dangling from between the bread slices.
"I know how much you liked her sandwiches, so I tried to make one for you. My mum helped with the egg, but I did the rest! I know it's not like how she used to make it, but I tried my hardest and if you don't want to eat it, that's okay. I'll keep trying."
Kurt was looking down at the sandwich wordlessly, tears gathering in his large eyes.
"Do you not like it? Does it remind you of her? I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm sorry!"
"No, no," Kurt choked out. "It's just – oh, B, it's perfect." Despite Kurt's complete lack of appetite, he took a small bite of the sandwich, smiling for the first time in a long while. He offered it to Blaine and they shared the sandwich until Blaine had to go.
When he did, he tucked Kurt back into his bed and kissed him on the cheek.
"You're my best friend, K."
"So are you, B."
Now Kurt had never been more glad to have Blaine as a friend.
Kurt was 14 now and trying to study for this damn English exam he had tomorrow. Seriously, what qualified teacher gave their students one night to decipher an entireShakespeare play?
Kurt's internal rage was interrupted – or ignited? – by the shrill ringing of the phone.
"Daaaad! Get the phone!"
"Oh, come on. Dad!" "Ugh. Laziest parent ever," he muttered, getting up to snatch the phone from it's cradle, sending a curt, "Hello?" down the line.
"Hey, K," a small voice replied.
"Oh, B," he sighed, mood lightening. "What's up?"
"I, er, can I talk to you?"
"Sure, anything to distract me from studying."
"No, but really. Can I talk to you? It's kind of serious."
"Of course you can, B. You know that."
"Alright. Well. Today, I…well…I – um – "
"Just say it, Blaine."
"You're gay?" Kurt asked incredulously, gripping the phone tight. All these years, and Blaine had never even said a thing. Hadn't even hinted at it.
And he was just so…boyish. He always tried to convince Kurt to play football with him when they visited the park they'd always gone to, ever since they met, and sometimes Kurt would allow it, but other times, he just wouldn't risk the life of his fabulous outfit and they'd eat lunch on their table (Blaine had absolutely perfectedthe egg and lettuce sandwiches; they were almost better than his mother's used to be). Hell, he even smelled like a boy – he never really wore cologne until Kurt had bought some for his 13th birthday and sometimes, he needed it.
That was beside the point, though. Kurt was sort of getting irritated that Blaine had never told him. They were best friends and best friends told each other everything.
"Yes," he breathed hoarsely. "Do you not like that? I thought you – "
"Oh! Oh!" Shit. "No, no, no no no! It's fine, Blaine! God, it's completely fine."
"You don't know how relieved I am to hear that."
"Why didn't you ever tell me, though? You can trust me with anything, B." Kurt heard Blaine sigh.
"I know that. But…I don't know – I was never really sure. And then – "
"It just hit you, right?"
"…yeah. How did you – "
"So!" Kurt interrupted, clearing his throat. Kurt was probably being hypocritical at the moment, he knew that, but he really didn't want to breach the subject of his sexuality just yet (especially over the phone! That was just weird), because he didn't know, either. He always thought some girls were pretty, but then again, he'd always thought a few boys were, too. He liked watching Power Rangers, but he also enjoyed dressing up. What did that make him?
Besides, everyone thought he was gay anyway. Why wouldn't Blaine?
"What did your parents say, then?"
"I didn't come out to my parents." Oh God.
"Wh – who, then?"
"I came out to my entire school. Accidentally." Kurt could hear sniffling on the other end of the line. Kurt knew what went on in their schools – bullies lurked around every corner, and if somebody even looked a little gay, or did something that was gay, those bullies would stick to them like magnets. Tease them, start rumors about them, even push them in the hallway from time to time. It varied. At Kurt's school, if the teachers were around, they'd pass notes to each other in class and make sure Kurt would get them in between. They'd snicker at his bowties and scarves, call them girly and stupid, pull his hats off and throw them across the hallway. Kurt didn't know what happened at Blaine's school.
"Oh, B. Don't cry. It's okay – it'll be fine. If anything happens, I'm sure your parents will be able to help."
"My parents don't know. I don't want my dad to find out, Kurt. He's made jokes about gay people before – and I'm scared of what he might do if he finds out."
"It's okay, Blaine. That's fine. You can do this – we can do this. We always get through things together. We're a team, remember? Kings of the Table." Blaine chuckled weakly and agreed. They could do this.
The next day, Blaine woke up to his mother gently shaking him.
"Hey, sweetie. Kurt stopped by before school to give you this. Said it was urgent." She handed Blaine a paper bag, ran her hand through his hair ("Blaine, honey, don't you think it's time to cut your hair? It's growing a little long.") tutting as she left the room.
Blaine stretched and ground the sleep from his eyes, groggily opening the bag that Kurt had sprayed with perfume (he'd always done that – was he trying to tell Blaine that he smelled bad?). The bag produced a little note that only said You're fabulous – love you xx, and two items wrapped crisply in foil, one circular and one rectangular. The note would have been enough to get Blaine through the day. But he opened the others anyway. Inside the circular one, was a large-ish cookie that Kurt had made and captioned with: You're gay, that's okay! And in the other was just a cheese and tomato sandwich, just some ingredients in two pieces of bread.
But so much more than that. A friendship.
Blaine ate the cookie as he walked to school.
Ate the sandwich after a group of seniors pushed him around. Because it made him feel stronger, like Kurt was there with him, throwing the bullies a sassy comeback as he strutted away with Blaine on his arm. Made him feel cared for, no matter who he was attracted to. This little lunch was more than just food – it was strength, and courage, wrapped in slices of friendship and acceptance. It was something that would get Blaine through high school without his best friend beside him.
A great sandwich couldn't save him from flying fists, though.
It was the Sadie Hawkins dance tonight. Blaine was taking another boy in his grade, Colin, as his date. Kurt was a little disappointed that Blaine didn't ask him to come, but Blaine promised to take him to the next prom to make it up to him, because he knew Kurt loved to dress up and impress people.
Colin was the only other gay kid in Blaine's school. Blaine wasn't taking him on a date because, yay, gay guy, let's get together. No way. Colin had just come out two weeks ago, and Blaine still knew what if felt like. Even if it was a year ago.
So he gave Colin what he hadn't had. Somebody else like him (Kurt still hadn't said anything about his situation and Blaine hadn't wanted to just assume that he was gay, so Kurt didn't count). Blaine had asked him a week ago and Colin had agreed. Simple as that.
Blaine was surprised that the night had gone smoothly. They danced for a bit, drank some punch – which was probably a little spiked, duh – talked about a few things, and stood around awkwardly. Yeah, there was a lot of that.
They stood close beside each other on the curb of the street, waiting for Colin's dad to pick them up. Neither said anything, but it was nice this time. Just relaxed and content and -
"Oh, look at these two." A voice said behind them. It was low, gruff and really not nice. "That's so gross, you know that, right? Don't your Dad teach you how to be a man?"
Blaine could feel Colin shaking beside him and thought: Courage. What would Kurt do?
"The only thing I see that's gross is your outfit." Some of the guy's friends began to laugh at him, at his face that reddened of anger and humiliation. Blaine tried to smirk, hoping it looked confident, and not like he was about to shit himself.
"You're just – you're so gay!" he yelled, advancing on the two boys. Colin tried to step back, but one of the bully's friends was already behind him, pushing Colin into the fence.
"Hey!" Blaine yelled, his voice coming out shaky. "You can't do that!"
"Watch me, buckboy." The leader pushed into Blaine, knocking him onto the sidewalk. Blaine tried to get up, to run and find a teacher to stop these maniacs but suddenly, before Blaine could even register to defend himself, fists were flying and feet were kicking and bodies were colliding and noses were cracking.
As soon as it started, though, it all just stopped. "Hey!" a male's voice was shouting. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Shit!" one of the bullies was cursing, and they all began to bolt down the street and out of sight. Blaine began to feel his body ache from being thrown onto the gutter too many times, his nose was probably broken and everything was just pain.
"Dear Lord," the man was saying, and Blaine distantly heard him calling for help. Someone said his name, but as Blaine drifted away – the exhaustion was just too much – he heard Kurt's voice, urging him to be strong. It's okay, B. You're okay.We're okay. We're a team, remember? You're my best friend.
Blaine awoke the following morning – a Saturday, right? Or was it Tuesday? – to the sound of a washing machine whirring and a soft little voice that he'd grown up with.
"It's not safe for him there, Mrs Anderson. Hell, it's safer in my school and I get bullied."
"You're right, Kurt. I hate that we had to find out this way, though. I would of pulled him out of there sooner if he'd told me." Blaine almost frowned, but he was pretending to be asleep now, so he kept his expression neutral.
"He kept saying your name, you know. Like…just in his sleep. That's why I called you."
"I'm glad you did. Did he say anything else?" There was a smile in Kurt's voice, Blaine could tell.
"Not really. Just random words…" Now Blaine's mother was smiling (he peeked, so what?) "Little things like, courage, friends, a team. And so…" she trailed off and Kurt cleared his throat.
"And so what?" Kurt's voice was a little rough.
"And so that's why I'm going into McKinley High on Monday for some transfer papers."
Blaine gasped. So did Kurt.
Blaine could hear the faint smacking of Kurt's lips against his mother's cheek, and at least ten little thank you's. Then the clicking of her heels leaving the room and Kurt's boots approaching him.
Blaine opened his eyes, a huge smile threatening to split his aching face in half and let Kurt pull him into a soft embrace.
"I was so worried, B. But it's okay now, we're okay. I can protect you now."
"Hey, I can protect myself! You should have heard the sassy comeback I threw in the guy's face." Kurt pulled away from Blaine's hair and laughed.
"That's my Blaine." Kurt kissed him on one blushing cheek, and then the other, smiling shyly down at his friend.
On Blaine's first day at McKinley, they shared sandwiches.
One cheese and tomato, and one egg and lettuce.
On Blaine's second day, they mixed the fillings together on a plate.
They gave the bread to the birds outside.
On Blaine's third day, they ate their sandwiches together.
They tasted like blueberry slushie.
The first time Blaine and Kurt had a big – okay, relatively big – fight was the day after Kurt came out.
"I told you years ago, Kurt! Why didn't you say anything to me?"
"I don't know!" Kurt yelled, crossing his arms across his chest. "I wasn't sure! And last time I checked, I'm pretty sure you didn't tell me either."
"That was different and you know it! Kurt, why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me? At all?"
"Shut up, Blaine, of course I trust you. God, couldn't you have figured it out by yourself?"
"I didn't want to assume, Kurt."
"Well, maybe you should have. Things would have happened much quicker," Kurt muttered and stalked off, leaving Blaine feeling confused, and really, really, pissed off. Probably guilty, too, but whatever. He was a little busy being angry. He could feel other stuff later.
The next day at school, Kurt sat away from his Glee Club friends, picking at a peanut butter sandwich. It tasted dry and plain his mouth. It was just a sandwich – nothing more than a stupid sandwich that he didn't like.
He felt a presence beside him, and Blaine was sitting there, looking like he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. Kurt put his sandwich down – wasn't going to miss it anyway – and waited for Blaine to say something, because he probably would have started to apologize profusely under those puppy dog eyes that he still remembered laughing at when he was little.
Kurt was abruptly pulled into a bone-crushing hug, Blaine's hair tickling his neck.
"I'm sorry," they both said, and pulled back a little, laughing. Their eyes locked for a moment and a million little memories passed between them… Learning how to ride the bike together, baking cookies and getting the flour everywhere, Kurt's mother, the countless songs they'd sung together, sitting away from their guardians in the movie theatre, feeling like big kids; an entire life.
Kissed each other on the cheek and things felt different.
They threw the peanut butter sandwich in the bin.
Two years ago, when Blaine had promised to take Kurt to the next prom, he wasn't lying.
Blaine was a little reluctant to ask Kurt at first, because the last thing he wanted was a rerun of Sadie Hawkins, and on Kurt, but eventually popped the question one night at Kurt's house. Kurt hand froze on last year's June release of Vogue and Blaine was genuinely shocked that he'd stopped. He'd spent the last hour rifling through every magazine he had to find that one issue with that stunning kilt that he could totally sport at prom, and to stop now? Well.
"I – uh, well. Yeah. Sure. If you want." Kurt shrugged, but if you're going to be somebody's best friend (more?) for ten years, Blaine thought, you're going to know that they're excited. Blaine lips curved upward, reading Kurt's face like a book. No, like a picture book. Everything spelled out right there, on his features.
He was excited, of course. Prom had always been exciting for him, even if it was just Junior Prom. There was hesitance, too. No…not hesitance, exactly. More liketrepidation. Just because McKinley High was better than Blaine's old school, didn't make it a school of lovely, angelic young individuals who all got along and strived to be excellent buggers. No way; kids were pushed in the hallways – sometimes by teachers, others made out against lockers, Blaine himself had a few bruises from some of the jocks, and at least six of his shirts were still tinged with the remnants of an icy slushy.
"Don't be so tense about it, K. It'll be okay. We're a team, remember?"
"Yeah, Kings of the Table."
They laughed and their fingers tangled together over February's issue.
It was prom night now and both of the young men had been feeling nauseous. Blaine, as he knocked on Kurt's door, straightened his tie, hoping that the churning of his stomach didn't turn into vomit on Kurt's Dad's shoes.
"Hi, Mr. Hummel," Blaine was saying as soon as he saw the cap. Burt gave Blaine a look, and laughed at him.
"You do realize you've always called me Burt until tonight, right, Blaine?"
"Oh. Right. Oops." Blaine laughed nervously as Burt clapped him on the shoulder and let him inside.
"Why you so nervous, kid? It's like you're meeting Kurt for the first time." Blaine looked at Burt quizzically, and screwed his eyes shut.
"I – I don't know. It's like…Kurt's always been my best friend. I can't remember my life before him – and now, things are different. But not a bad different. Like…everything is older, but the feelings are newer."
"I think tonight's the night, Blaine. Make Kurt happy." Blaine frowned at Burt, eyes wide.
"Wh- what? What do you me – "
"Blaine!" that soft voice pierced Blaine's ears and he turned on his heel, seeing Kurt descending the stairs in his high black boots. He stood before Blaine, smiling that Kurt smile.
"Kurt. Hi." Blaine's tie felt a little too tight, the tux a little too stifling as he looked at Kurt. His date.
"Stunning, fabulous, amazing?"
"More than that, K." Kurt smiled timidly and glanced at his Dad. Burt nodded and smiled brightly. Blaine could swear there were tears dousing his eyes.
"You boys go and have fun."
Throughout the night, there was this tension that neither of them could place. It wasn't the kind of tension that, when it broke, people were throwing punches and slashing each other with vicious, scary words. It was an unfamiliar tension.
But they ignored it. Carried on. Instead, they danced together like idiots, performed a few songs onstage, drank some punch (Sue Sylvester eyed that stuff like a hawk the entire time) and chatted with friends.
"Everybody, grab your date, we're going to slow it down," Rachel Berry announced into the microphone, smiling a little forlornly. Immediately, the dancefloor was filled with couples snuggling into each other's arms as they swayed to the music.
Kurt's stomach threatened to reject the cheese and tomato sandwich he'd eaten for good luck earlier, and closed his eyes when he felt Blaine's hand on his shoulder.
"May I have this dance?"
Kurt took a deep breath and met those honey eyes.
They started their dance with an embrace – they didn't know how else to do it. So Blaine began to sway them a little, and they moved apart, just enough so they could rock decently. It was just a little dance, nothing special, until their eyes had to meet.
Kurt knew that, tonight, he was going to do something crazy, something that would change his life forever.
Blaine knew the same thing.
Their lives – their memories together – were passing through the space between the two again, their unforgettable friendship hanging between them, ready now to flourish from its kernel and blossom into something so much more; a lifetime. An entire life of Kurt and Blaine.
Tears were prickling both their eyes, and they opened their mouths to say something to keep them together, but instead, their lips found each other in a knee-weakening kiss. A first kiss. An initiation from a childhood into a life. Into starting an existence together and ending it together. A forever.
"I – Blaine, I – "
"I love you," Blaine finished in a choked whisper, not even fighting back the sobs that racked his body. Happy. So, unbearably happy.
"Yes. Yes. I love you."
They fell into each other's arms, gripping each other tighter than ever before. The song had ended but theirs hadn't.
They left prom early to drive to the empty countryside and lie on the hood of Blaine's car. They talked, they cried and they kissed until the late hours of night.
At midnight, Blaine pulled a container from his car and handed it to Kurt. Inside, neatly placed, was two halves of a sandwich. One cheese and tomato, the other egg and lettuce. Two halves of a whole.
They ate them in silence, tasting the flavour in each other's mouths when they kissed afterward. Tasting a new memory. Feeling it burn into their life like the searing hotness of their sweaty hands, roaming tongues.
The first time Kurt and Blaine had sex, it was late, late at night – maybe even early morning - in the Hummel residence and they were messing around under the covers, trying not to wake Burt. Blaine's mouth latched onto Kurt's neck and his hands roamed the familiar territory of Kurt's arms.
"You know," Kurt gasped. "In two days, it'll be twelve years since the day we met."
Silently, Blaine pulled away from Kurt's skin, leaning over him with a small smile. Holding his hand out, he turned the lamp on for Kurt to see. Written in thin, black marker on the top of Blaine's hand, was a tiny 2, slightly smudged, but there.
"Twelve years since my first egg and lettuce sandwich," he whispered proudly.
"Twelve years since Kings of the Table."
"Twelve years since I met the love of my life."
"Twelve years since everything."
They were kissing again, with more fervor than ever before, mouths and hands beginning to wander of their own will. Then they were saying things, clothes were coming off, somebody was scrambling out of bed for supplies and they were losing their virginities.
It wasn't the epitome of romance – well, they were under the moonlight, that was pretty romantic – but it was just so them and so right that neither of them would have had it any other way.
Afterwards, they snuck downstairs, clad only in boxers, and made sandwiches. They fed them to each other, sitting cross-legged on the cold bench. Kurt tried not to laugh too loud when a bit of tomato fell out of the sandwich and onto Blaine and when Blaine licked the egg on Kurt's chin like a puppy, covering it in saliva. Kurt had slapped his arm, but pulled him close anyway, cuddling Blaine to his chest.
This night, sitting on a bench eating sandwiches, was the first of many similar to come.
Kurt and Blaine had been engaged for two years, but the very month gay marriage was legalized in Ohio, they shot down there from New York like rockets, delving into wedding plans and invitations like they'd been waiting their lives for it.
And they sort of had, really.
A special day, exactly seventeen years since the Kings of the Table, since egg and lettuce, cheese and tomato and seventeen years since two little boys, a tiny park that sat in the town of Ohio, usually empty, teemed with people, young and old. Friends, family, and a photographer or two milled about the grass, finding reserved seats, catching up with old friends, making new.
Music began to play and people began to stand, some dabbing their eyes, others smiling so brightly the place almost lit up. A few just looked like their mother's had dragged them along.
At the arch, stood a man, Blaine Anderson, in a black suit, bouncing on his heels in anticipation.
And then there was another man, Kurt Hummel, dressed in a crisp white suit, appearing in the park. He took a moment to look at his surroundings, to glance at the table where he had met the man he was marrying today, to let the tears gather in his eyes and to smile at his loved ones, to smile at Blaine's, as he walked by them.
As Kurt reached his Blaine at the arch, they both turned to look at that table, their table, to notice their transition of little kings, to married kings.
They said their vows through choked sobs, barely able to make it through, and the second their were married, they fell into each others arms, crying into a kiss, tasting the salt in their mouths, as distinct as the first time they'd shared sandwiches in this little park seventeen years ago.
While everybody else left for the reception, Kurt and Blaine stayed behind to sit on their table.
They shared sandwiches – one cheese and tomato, the other egg and lettuce – and this time, shared a kiss over that old wood, the wood they had sat on, possibly at this very moment, so many years ago.
"You're my husband, B."
"So are you, K."
So, I've never cried while writing a fic until now.